


Home Run

by ThirdGenerationRockette



Series: Will/Mac 1.0 [4]
Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Series, Will meets the parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 04:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13605528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirdGenerationRockette/pseuds/ThirdGenerationRockette
Summary: “So, does that mean you'd be okay with meeting my parents or is that a step too far?” She grins, knowing just how much her mother is itching to meet him, deciding not to tell him that for the moment. “I know they'd love to meet you.”





	1. Chapter 1

It's baseball, she knows that much, but she has no idea who's playing, no idea who's winning, and no idea if it started ten minutes ago or if it's been going for hours. And as long as he keeps touching her as gently as he currently is, she doesn't much care. His hand moves slowly through her hair, his fingers tangling slightly, his warm fingertips soothing against her scalp. His t-shirt feels soft under her cheek, and it smells good, newly washed cotton mixed with his freshly showered scent.

She glances in the direction of the TV, briefly curious about the game he seems to be following, but she's still none the wiser so she lets her mind drift again. It's almost a year to the day since he slipped a pair of socks onto her cold feet and she told him she loved him, everything suddenly falling into place, and she smiles against his chest as she thinks about that night. In just over a month she'll turn thirty-one, and unlike last year's actual milestone birthday, this one feels more so, mostly because she's spent the past year with an ever-encroaching timeline in her head, one that she likes, and one that has the two of them married by the time she's thirty-two.

“Where do you think we'll be in a year?” The question comes out of her mouth almost as quickly as the thought forms in her mind.

“I don't know...” He pauses, sighs slightly, and runs his hand once again through her hair. “Still here, I guess?”

“Oh God, is this one of those games that goes on forever, a double-runner, or whatever they're called?” She doesn't think that is what they're called but she's sure she's close. Not that it matters. “Are you saying we might literally still be sitting here in a year's time?”

“Doubleheader.” She hears the smile in his voice. “And no, it's not. I guess I meant, here as in DC, still doing the show, but hopefully with a fuckload more viewers.”

“Right,” she says, pausing to think, wondering if he's deliberately responding with the work angle, deciding to push on to find out. “And yeah, the show's going well, I think we have something that's really working there, you and I, but I was thinking more about...other stuff too, I guess, not just work.”

“Well, unless you get bored with me, then I'm hoping that won't change either.” His tone is casual but she hears the underlying uncertainty.

“I'm not going to get bored with you, Billy. Never.” She shifts slightly so she can look up at him. “And I'm not questioning what we have, I love it, I love _you_ , you know that. I just have a freakishly ordered brain and something of a timeline that has taken up residence and refuses to leave.”

“Alright, is this anything to do with your 'oh my God, I'm going to be thirty-one next month' thing?” He raises his eyebrows and she shrugs. “You know, like thirty-one is something to panic about. I mean, shit, you're aware of just how long it's been since I was thirty-one, right?”

“It's not about that, not really.” She shakes her head, frowns slightly. “I mean, it is, kind of, I just...in my head I have certain things that I would like to have done by the time I reach certain points in my life, and they're movable, obviously, but there's still...I still want-”

“You want to get married and have a family.” It's not a question, he knows what she's saying, so she replies with a simple nod. “Well...good, because I want those things too. With you, if you're needing some real obvious clarification.”

She smiles at him, wondering if that's as close to a proposal as she'll get and he'll just show up one day with a ring, or if the old-fashioned side of him will want to do it properly, with a sweet and slightly babbling speech. Either way is fine and she's happy to wait and see.

“So, does that mean you'd be okay with meeting my parents or is that a step too far?” She grins, knowing just how much her mother is itching to meet him, deciding not to tell him that for the moment. “I know they'd love to meet you.”

“And you?” He slides his hand down to rest on the small of her back as he looks at her.

“They've already met me.” She grins, watching as he shakes his head, a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Funny. You know what I meant.” he says.

“I know.” She smiles at him. “Well, I'd really like you to meet them too.” “You're taking some time off with them, right?” he asks.

“Yeah, I'm going to try to take a few days at least.” She nods, realising they arrive in two weeks and if she does want some time off she really needs to arrange cover.

“Alright, well...maybe I can take a day or two and we can all do something?” He nods his head in the direction of the TV. “Maybe your dad and I could go to a game?”

“He'd love that, I think.” She smiles as he looks back at her. “He used to take Rufus to the ball games when we still lived here, I think he really quite enjoyed it. He took me once too. I was five and I don't remember it at all, but I apparently happily ate a hot dog and then slept through the entire thing.”

“Sports were never really your thing then?” he asks, grinning.

“Clearly not.” She settles back against his chest, glancing briefly up at the clock on the wall, groaning faintly as she realises it's later than she thought.

“What?” His voice is low, his hand warm against her back.

“I need to head home.” She sighs, the thought of cleaning the bathroom and doing an enormous load of laundry nowhere near as appealing as staying right where she is. “My bathroom is a filthy disgrace and I'm going to be totally out of underwear unless I get myself into gear and do some damn laundry.”

“That's a bad thing?” The sexy edge to his voice makes her wonder briefly if it really is such a bad thing, but then the thought of going commando to work reminds her that yes, it is.

“I can't exactly show up to work without any underwear on,” she says, the mere thought enough to horrify her. She knows what he's going to say though, so she beats him to it. “And I know you're going to say nobody would know, but I would, _I'd_ know.”

“Mmm, and so would I.” He leans down and kisses the top of her head, sighing when she lifts her head from his chest and sits up.

“If that's some funky little fetish of yours I've been unaware of until now, you can put it right back on the shelf again.” She grins at him and reaches for his hand, squeezing gently before she reluctantly stands up. “It's never going to happen.”

“A guy has to try.” He smirks at her, his hand still in hers as she starts to move away. “You want to do something later? Go out to dinner, a movie?”

“Not really.” She shakes her head and squeezes his fingers. “Come over though, stay at my place? I'll make dinner.”

“Not an offer I'm ever going to turn down.” He tugs on her hand until she leans down to kiss him, only then letting go.

“Alright. Give me a few hours though, I need to get groceries, get my boring shit done.” She scans the floor for her shoes and heads for the hallway when she spots them there. “You can bring wine and something for dessert, I don't mind what.”

“Sounds good,” he says, his eyes on her when she passes him to go and grab her bag from the bedroom.

By the time she makes sure she has everything she needs and comes back into the room, he's engrossed in the game once again, his face one of concentration, of focus, so much so that she isn't sure he's even noticed she's there. Smiling she steps in front of him and kisses him quickly before stepping out of the way of the TV.

“Enjoy the rest of the game,” she says, running her hand through his hair before she heads for the door. “See you tonight.”

“Love you,” he murmurs, his attention back on the game as she replies with a 'you too'. As she steps outside, she's surprised by how pleasant an afternoon it is, one of those early  
September days that feels like it can't decide which season it belongs to, so she throws her bag over her shoulder and decides to walk home. Pulling her phone from her jacket pocket, she hits her mother's number, smiling even before she answers.

“Hello, darling!” Her mother's familiar voice rings clearly down the line. “Everything alright?”

“Everything's good, Mum, yeah,” she says, her smile widening, knowing what the response will be even before she asks the question. “So...you and Daddy are going to be here in a couple of weeks, and I was just wondering how you'd feel about meeting Will?”

*

“Let's get a drink.” Her arm already linked in his, she pushes the door open and heads inside, pulling him with her, the sudden urge for a caffeine hit something she can't fight, the smell of the coffee strong and tempting as they join the short line.

“You think I don't know this is the place with those huge cookies you like?” He grins at her and she smiles back.

“Oh, is it?” She shrugs even as she's already trying to decide between double chocolate and white chocolate macadamia. “I was just thinking the iced coffee here is pretty good, that's all.”

“Get one of each, we'll split them.” He can read her like a book, which would perhaps be worrying if it didn't fill her with warmth to realise just how well he knows her.

She grabs the cookies, he picks up the drinks and they head to a table in the window. The iced coffee _is_ good, but hell, he wasn't wrong, her mind was as much on the cookies as it was on the caffeine.

“How do you suppose that in our nation's capital on a Sunday afternoon we can't find a single movie that we can agree is worth seeing?” She reaches for the white chocolate cookie, halves it, and does the same with the other, leaving them both on the plate between them as she takes a mouthful of her coffee.

“I don't know,” he says, breaking off a piece of cookie, pausing to eat it before he goes on. “Too late for the summer blockbusters, too early for anything decent?”

“Yeah, maybe.” She takes a chunk of the same cookie, popping it into her mouth and turning to the window, taking the opportunity to watch as people walk by, as the traffic moves through the city.

She doesn't really mind that they didn't find anything they wanted to watch. It's a warm, bright afternoon and she enjoyed just walking with him. She always enjoys just walking with him, she likes the feel of his hand in hers, she likes that they can talk about big things, small things, silly things, and she likes too that they can walk in total silence and it always feels comfortable. She's never had that with anyone else, that sense of belonging, of security, of knowing she's someone's most important person, and she never realised how much she needed it before.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I talked to my mum yesterday.” She pauses to lick the chocolate from her thumb, not oblivious to his gaze following her tongue as she does. “She's _very_ excited about meeting you.”

“She is?” He sounds surprised and she wonders if he genuinely has no idea how much she's talked to her mother about him, how often she tells her parents how happy he makes her.

“I believe what she said was 'It's about bloody time, I was starting to think you'd be married with six children by the time we got to meet him', or words to that effect, which I of course told her was completely ridiculous because there's no way we're having six kids,” she says, smiling at him, wondering if he has a clue that while she does think six is too many, she finds the idea of three or four really quite appealing, deciding that information can definitely wait. “I should warn you that she's also dying to know if you're every bit as handsome as you look on screen so she'll probably scrutinise you in a way that's on the verge of inappropriate. I can only apologise in advance.”

“And your dad?” he asks, looking only mildly terrified at the idea of meeting her mother, which she takes as a good sign.

“Oh, I don't think my dad is all that interested in confirming your handsomeness.” She grins at him and he shakes his head. “I think my dad is just looking forward to talking politics with you, to be honest.”

“I can handle that, as long he's fine with me grilling him about his work over the years.” He stops to take a drink and she can't help think he and her father are going to get on well, despite how different they are in so many ways. “Seriously, honey, your dad fascinates me, he's had quite the career, I can't wait to hear about it firsthand.”

“Oh he's more than happy to share his stories.” She smiles, takes another piece of cookie, chewing slowly, savouring the sweetness of the white chocolate on her tongue. “To be honest, even though it's my mum who's the talker, you'll be lucky if you can get my dad to shut up once he gets started.”

“I'm totally okay with that.” He means it, she can hear it in his voice, and it makes her happy because she knows they're going to love him for all the same reasons she does.  
“Good.” She smiles and slides her hand across the table to squeeze his. “You know what?”

“This where you break it to me that they're bringing every single one of your siblings with them, right?” He raises an eyebrow and she laughs at the hint of fear in his eyes.

“Dammit, that was meant to be a surprise.” She grins at him to make it clear she's not serious. “Don't panic, I wouldn't do that to you, I do _kind_ of want to keep you around, you know?”

“Glad to hear it.” His eyes stay firmly fixed on hers as he talks. “What then?”

“Well, I was just thinking that as long as you keep my dad talking and I deal with my mum and her millions of questions...” She reaches for the plate and picks up another piece of cookie. “I'm pretty sure we've got this covered.”

He nods and she eats her cookie as she turns again to the window, watching the world go by, smiling as she realises just how happy she is in her little corner of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Her mother looks over at her, a sparkle in her eyes, and she really hopes she prepared Will for what was in store for him. If she didn't, it's certainly too late now, so she smiles at Penny and opens the door._

“Will's on his way.” She walks into the living room and smiles at her parents, her father firmly ensconced in the Washington Post, her mother flicking through the TV channels, volume on low as she seems to not actually be looking for anything to watch. “Are you sure you don't want to eat before you go, Daddy?”

“Oh, I should imagine Will and I will indulge in something at the game, darling,” he says, his smile telling her how much he's looking forward to his trip to Baltimore. “I'm hoping for a hot dog, or maybe a pretzel, something like that.”

“Well, don't forget we have dinner reservations, Robert, so don't fill up too much on junk food,” Penny says, giving her husband a warning look.

“Whatever you do, don't let Will hear you refer to hot dogs as junk food, he'll be horrified.” She grins at her mother before heading into the kitchen to do a brief clean up before they all head out, preferring that than coming home to it later.

She's enjoying having her parents to visit, just as she always does, but it does mean that she hasn't seen Will in three days. Her parents have been leaving to head back to their hotel pretty late and Will's been working, so of course they've talked, but it's not the same as having him here or her heading to his place. It's made her realise how long it's been since they spent a night apart, how things have slipped into an easy non-verbal agreement that they want to be together more nights than not, and the thought makes her smile.

The buzzer rings as she's on her way into the living room so she diverts and picks up the receiver, smiling at his familiar “Hey, it's me,” before she buzzes him in. Her mother looks over at her, a sparkle in her eyes, and she _really_ hopes she prepared Will for what was in store for him. If she didn't, it's certainly too late now, so she smiles at Penny and opens the door.

If she didn't know better she'd think the handsome man standing in front of her was here to take her on a first date. His hair is freshly washed and neatly combed, he's wearing a dark blue shirt (not a dress shirt, but definitely not the casual t-shirt he would usually wear to a game) with jeans and a light jacket, and he's carrying a huge bunch of flowers, she guesses, for her mother. She reaches for him and he moves the flowers aside as she leans up and kisses him, nowhere near as hungrily as she would if her parents weren't sitting just behind her.

“Hi.” She pulls back, runs her hands over his shoulders, and smiles up at him, lowering her voice before she continues. “You okay?”

“I'm good, yeah,” he says, his voice low too, his eyes bright as he returns her smile.

Stepping back, she lets him in and then closes the door behind him, watching as her parents stand in the middle of the room, her father looking his usual jovial self, and her mother looking like she just won the lottery. Steeling herself, she takes Will's hand and leads him over to where they're waiting.

“This is Will,” she says with a smile, squeezing his fingers and feeling him squeeze them right back, harder. “Will, my mum, Penny, and this is my dad, Robert.”

“It's really good to meet you both.” He sounds nervous and she can hear in his voice how much it means to him that this goes well, that they like him. He lets go of her hand and hands the flowers to her mother. “Mrs McHale, these are for you.”

“It's Penny, please, you must call me Penny,” her mother says, practically purring. “And it's absolutely delightful to meet you at last. Had we not seen your rather handsome face on screen I'm not sure we'd have been entirely convinced of your existence.”

“Well, I'm real,” he says, shrugging in the face of Penny's clear joy. “I'm definitely real.”

“Oh, I can see that, and gosh, you're much taller than I expected.” Penny grins and Will lets out a huff of embarrassment.

“You do know he's sitting behind a desk on TV, Mum, don't you?” She steps in, determined to save Will from her mother, for the moment at least. “Anyway, shall we have coffee? You don't have to leave right this second, do you?”

“No, we have time for coffee. Can I help?” Will looks at her with a slightly pleading look in his eyes, taking his jacket off and draping it over the back of the couch.

“No, go and sit...chat, I'll just be a few minutes,” she says, smiling at him and squeezing his arm in what she hopes is encouragement. “I'll take those and put them in some water, Mum, if you like?”

“Thank you, darling.” Her mother smiles and hands the flowers to her.

One of the advantages of a small apartment is that any conversation in the living room can be heard clearly from the kitchen, so she's not snooping as she makes the coffee, she's merely proving there's nothing wrong with her hearing. She hears Will ask about their flight, about what they've done since they arrived, and he chats for a few minutes with her father about sports. Then, as she expected, her mother can apparently wait no longer, and she hears “So, Will...” Luckily for Will it's the exact moment the coffee is ready, so she smiles and steps into the doorway.

“Will, could you give me a hand?” She watches as he gets up from the couch almost faster than she's ever seen him move before, and she grins when he appears beside her in the kitchen. “In the last five minutes, have you decided I'm cute but I'm really not worth _this_ level of trouble? You may as well get it over with and tell me now, although you should know that my dad will be furious if you bail on this baseball game. He seems quite excited about the prospect of hot dogs and pretzels.”

“Honey, I'm not bailing on _anything_ ,” he says, reaching for her, resting his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs stroking slowly over her skin as she pours the coffee.

“Stay tonight, Billy,” she murmurs, leaning back slightly into his touch. “I've missed you this week.”

“I missed you too.” He drops his hands as she moves over to the fridge and takes out the milk, and when she turns back he's leaning against the counter watching her. “I just figured that, you know, with your parents here...”

“I'm pretty sure they know their thirty-year-old daughter doesn't send her boyfriend home every night,” she says, grinning at him, stepping closer, and taking his hand. “And besides, they'll more than likely head straight back to the hotel right after dinner tonight, so you know, you may as well walk me home, right?”

“Right.” He nods, smiling at her as she squeezes his hand before turning to add milk to the coffee. “That would definitely seem like the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Exactly.” She smiles again, wondering how it can be that three nights apart can somehow feel so much longer.

He takes two of the mugs into the living room, she takes the other two, and they set them down on the coffee table, her father reaching to pick his up almost immediately, which makes her smile; she's well aware of where her love of coffee comes from. Sitting down next to Will, she feels him relax and she wonders just how tense he was while she was in the kitchen, even though it sounded from in there like he was doing fine.

They sit and drink coffee, there's some talk about work, about her parents' plans for the rest of their trip, and a minor rant on her mother's part about her sister having chosen this very week to disappear to some beach resort or other. If she's honest, she's not entirely disappointed by that, and even though she wants him to meet her siblings, she feels like inflicting her parents _and_ Harriet on Will at the same time may have been just a little too cruel.

“So, what do you have planned while we're at the game?” Will looks at her first and then at a clearly smitten Penny, who smiles sweetly at him before she answers.

“Well, there's a Rousseau exhibition at the National Gallery that I've been very much looking forward to seeing, so I think that's where we'll head first,” Penny says, glancing at her for confirmation, smiling when she nods in agreement. “And then I think a stop somewhere for tea and a snack will be in order so Mackie and I can have a good old chat. I feel like I have _lots_ to catch up on.”

“How about you, Daddy? Are you looking forward to the game?” Stopping her mother before she decides to start on her catch up right now, she looks at her father, who grins widely at her.

“I most definitely am, darling, it's been years since I've been to a game,” he says, leaning forward to put his empty mug on the table in front of him. “Should be a good one, too, I think, don't you, Will?”

“Yeah, I think so. They've made some big changes over there this season, it's been pretty interesting to watch,” Will answers, in his comfort zone of talking about sports, his tone more relaxed than it's been since he arrived.

“Well, good,” she says, aiming to sound enthusiastic even though she couldn't name a single one of those changes. “Go the Oreos!”

“The...who?” Will is stifling a laugh and she's not sure why. “We're going to a ball game, honey, not grocery shopping.”

“I don't...you're going to Baltimore, right?” She frowns and wonders if she has that totally wrong, if she's paid even less attention than she thought.

“Yep,” he says, amusement still written all over his face. “To an Orioles game. Ori _oles_.” 

“That's what I said.” She shrugs and squeezes his knee. “Or, you know, it's _almost_ what I said.” 

“We should probably get going, actually,” he says, glancing at his watch and then at her father, who finishes his coffee and stands up, quite clearly more than ready for his afternoon at the game.

“Excellent.” Her father puts his empty mug down on the table and nods at Will. “I shall make a quick bathroom stop and then I'm ready when you are.”

*

“I like him, Mackie, I really like him.” Her mother squeezes her arm as they head down onto the street. “And before you say it, I'm aware that I've only spent a short time in his company, but you know me, I am an _excellent_ judge of character, and I like him very much.”

“I wasn't going to say that,” she says, smiling. “You made it quite clear you liked what you saw.”

“Well, I doubt I have to tell you this, but your boyfriend is a very handsome chap.” Her mother waggles her eyebrows to make her point.

“No, you don't have to tell me that.” She grins at her mother's reaction but she's certainly not disagreeing. “I've noticed, Mum. I've definitely noticed.”

“Glad to hear it's being appreciated,” Penny says, smirking briefly before turning her attention to the traffic they're currently trying to negotiate to cross the street.

“You don't just like him because...” She pauses, a bad taste in her mouth at the very thought of who she's about to mention. “Because he's not Brian.”

“Oh, don't get me wrong, darling, I'm very pleased he's not Brian. That man never had a bloody clue that you were one hundred percent too good for him, but no, that's not the reason.” Penny always made it clear she hadn't taken to Brian, only ever choosing times to visit when she knew he wouldn't be around and never asking about him when they talked. “I like Will because it's very clear how much he adores you.”

“It is?” She's not questioning Will's feelings, she's just wondering what made her mother so aware of them.

“Oh, Mackie, it's blatantly obvious in the way he looks at you, the way he talks to you...” Pausing, they manage to get across the street, and she continues. “And it seems rather clear too that the feeling is mutual.”

“Yeah, it is, I...” She smiles at her mother, suddenly feeling oddly coy as she answers. “I love him, Mum. I get it now, you know, the thing people say about just knowing when you meet the right person. You can't explain it, can you? You just... _know_.”

“Absolutely.” Her mother nods and reaches for her, squeezing her arm as they walk. “I knew very soon after meeting your father that he was the right man for me.”

“You said no the first time Daddy asked you to marry him, Mum,” she says. “Have you conveniently forgotten that with the passage of time?”

“I said no _because_ I knew he was the right man for me. I knew without a doubt we'd get married one day so I didn't see any reason to rush into it while we were so young.” Smiling, her mother goes on. “Have you and Will talked about marriage?”

“Sort of, I guess, yeah. He knows I want to get married and have a family, and he wants the same, so, you know, no plans yet, but...it'll happen at some point.” She returns her mother's smile, thinking about the easy way she and Will confirmed they were on the same page when it came to marriage. “I haven't broken it to him yet that I've always wanted three or four kids though, I thought I'd ease him in gently with that one when the time comes.”

“I highly doubt he'll be raising any objections,” her mother says. “I'm happy for you, sweetheart, I really am. I knew someone would come along one day who treated you the way you deserve to be treated.”

“I know it's easy to say with the benefit of hindsight, but I can't quite believe I wasted so much time with Brian.” She sighs, briefly hit by the same guilt that kicks in whenever she thinks about the handful of times she caved in to Brian's calls, even though it was well over a year ago, and feels even longer. “On and off, back and forth for _years_ , even though I knew I never wanted to marry him, and I certainly wouldn't have considered for a single second having children with him- ”

“Don't waste time berating yourself for that, Mackenzie. You were young when you met Brian, and being the despicable human being he is, he clearly used that to his advantage.” Her mother stops her, the look on her face making her dislike for Brian quite plain. “The best way I can put it, darling, is that sometimes you need to bathe in shit before you're able to recognise that bubbles are _far_ more pleasant.”

She knows her mother is right, now that she can look back she can see that Brian was only interested in being with someone he could control, someone who was available when it suited him and who he could send home when he was done with them. And at twenty-three, having not long returned to America and focusing more on starting her career than making friends, she was that person. It's long over now and she couldn't be happier that he's out of her life for good, but occasionally the memories flood her brain and she gets angry with herself all over again.

“None of that matters now, it's ancient history.” Her mother's voice cuts into her thoughts, and she's grateful for it. “Anyway, I'm looking forward to dinner this evening, although it's quite possible Will and your father will do nothing but talk about baseball.”

“You do think Daddy will like him, don't you?” She knows her mother is a tough nut to crack but she knows too that when it comes to his daughters and their boyfriends, her father can be even tougher.

“Good lord, Mackenzie, I know this is important to you, but do stop looking for things to worry about.” Penny frowns at her and she feels silly, knowing she's probably worrying unnecessarily. “I have a feeling he's probably putting Will through quite the vigorous interrogation process as we speak, but yes, I do think he'll like him. I don't think he would have agreed quite so readily to spend three hours at a baseball game with him if he wasn't already quite confident they were going to get along.”

“Okay.” She lets out a long breath and nods, her mother's words helping. “You're right, I'm overthinking it. They're probably drinking beer, eating hot dogs, and having a great time.”

“Exactly.” Penny grins and puts a reassuring arm around her shoulder. “Right, let's go and see if this exhibition is worth the hype, and then we can find somewhere for an afternoon cocktail or two. How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” she says with a smile. “It sounds perfect.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It seems her mother was right in her earlier certainty that her father would like Will, they arrived at dinner chatting like old friends, with Will remarkably more relaxed than he had been before he left for the game._

She leans back in her chair, relaxed and happy as she looks across the table at her parents, her hand sliding under the table and onto Will's knee. It seems her mother was right in her earlier certainty that her father would like Will, they arrived at dinner chatting like old friends, with Will remarkably more relaxed than he had been before he left for the game. Glancing at his plate, she's almost certain the last chunk of cake has been left for her deliberately, and it makes her smile, just as it does every time.

“Billy, please tell me you're not going to leave that piece of cake all sad and neglected...” She squeezes his knee and smiles sweetly at him.

“I have a feeling it won't stay neglected for long,” he says, returning her smile as he pushes the plate closer to her. “It's all yours.”

Picking up her fork and reaching for the cake, she sees her mother's amused look, and she shrugs slightly in response before she takes a bite.

“Is it next month you're going to Mexico?” Her mother asks, looking at Will, who doesn't currently have a mouthful of cake.

“Yeah, for a week,” he answers with a nod. “We just thought a break would be good. Somewhere nice, no work for a few days, you know.”

“Sounds lovely.” Smiling, her mother reaches for her glass and finishes the last of her wine. “A little break somewhere warm is always nice just as autumn starts to kick in. Have you been there before, Will?”

“No, never, actually. We didn't even have Mexico in mind, really, we just found a good deal and went for it,” he says.

“Well, I'm sure it will be delightful.” They sit in silence for a few minutes, finishing their drinks, and then her mother grins, nudging her father's arm. “Now, Robert, I'm rather craving a soak in that lovely hotel bathtub, if you're ready to head back.”

“Indeed,” her father says with a smile. “ Ready whenever you are, my dear.”

“We'll walk you back to the hotel, Mum,” she says, putting her fork down, completely satisfied with her taste of cake, and looking forward to curling up with Will after their few nights apart. “It's on the way back to my place anyway.”

“And you, Will? It's not too far out of _your_ way?” Her mother's tone suggests she knows exactly which direction Will is heading in tonight.

“No problem at all, I was planning on walking Mackenzie home anyway,” he answers, so apparently unaffected by her mother's insinuation that she could climb into his lap right now and kiss him silly. She won't, but she _could_.

They get ready to leave and a minor debate over who's paying follows, with her credit card along with Will's and her father's being thrown onto the table. Her father's insistence on covering it wins out eventually, his “the two of you can take us out for dinner when you come to London” not going unnoticed.

In the hotel lobby, she hugs them both and watches as Penny hugs Will while her father shakes his hand and claps him on the back, which she knows is the Robert McHale stamp of approval. She slides her hand into Will's and smiles up at him, feeling his fingers tangling in hers.

“Daddy, you have plans tomorrow, I think Mum said?” She has a faint recollection of her mother saying he was meeting up with a former colleague, someone from their time here in DC years ago.

“Only in the morning, darling.” Her father smiles at her. “I'm meeting an old friend of mine. We're doing something that feels rather trendy, actually, we're having brunch.”

“Sounds nice.” She smiles at his assessment of brunch and turns to her mother. “You're not tagging along?”

“Certainly not,” her mother says, wrinkling her nose slightly. “I intend to sleep in a little and then do nothing more than drink tea while I have the hotel room to myself for a couple of hours.”

“How about we call when I get back, we can decide how we'd like to spend the afternoon?” Her father asks, smiling at them both. “Do you have to work tomorrow, Will?”

“I don't, I have tomorrow off,” Will says, looking a little awkward, and she knows it's because he doesn't want to feel like he's crashing their day. “I mean, Mac said you might make plans for the afternoon, so-”

“Excellent.” Her father grins at Will. “Then you can join us. I may need some support if the afternoon ends up being one that revolves solely around shopping.”

“Shush, Robert, don't scare him away before he's even arrived.” Her mother cuts in, grinning at Will. “Right, I think we should head upstairs, let Will and Mackie finish their evening. We'll call you tomorrow, darling.”

“Goodnight.” Her father waves over his shoulder as his wife drags him lovingly towards the elevators.

She feels Will's hand tug on hers so she turns to him and nods her readiness to head home. Stepping outside, the warm air washes over her, something she always welcomes after an evening coddled by air conditioning. It feels to her like the day was a success, she knows without a doubt what her mother thinks of Will, and even though her father is a little more difficult to read, she's pretty sure he likes him too.

“How did it go?” She suddenly wonders how Will feels. “Really?”

“What?” he asks, frowning faintly.

“This afternoon,” she says, trying not to sound impatient. “With my dad. He didn't give you too much of a hard time, did he?”

“Well, he opened with “if you think you're ever marrying my Mackenzie, I simply must tell you you're quite wrong”, but once he got that out of the way, he was fine.” Even if he wasn't currently smirking at her, she wouldn't believe it. Her father may be protective of his girls, but he's not under any illusions that he can make their decisions for them. “Seriously though, there's a lot your dad and I don't agree on, politically speaking, but we actually had a lot in common too.”

“The fact you both adore _me_?” She smiles sweetly at him as they turn the corner onto her street.

“That helps, sure,” he says as he smiles back. “I like your dad, honey, and I think he thought I was okay, I hope he did, I feel like we had a good afternoon, I-”

She stops him with a kiss, sensing just how much he wants her parents' approval, and needing him to know how much she loves him for it. His arms slide around her, pulling her closer to him, and she feels his hand gently cupping the back of her head. When a passing car honks its horn, she remembers where they are and pulls away, taking his hand again and moving towards her building.

Walking through the door, she kicks off her shoes and peels off her jacket, dropping it along with her bag onto the couch. He does the same with his shoes and jacket, smiling at her as he does, a warm, sexy smile that makes her stomach flip over. After three nights apart and an evening watching him charm her parents she has him all to herself again, her need for him so strong that she can feel her own arousal building even as they stand fully-clothed. Stepping over to him, she considers unbuttoning his shirt but opts to bypass it, moving her hands straight to his jeans instead, running her hand slowly down from the waistband, pleased to find he's apparently missed their nights together just as much as she has. As she unzips his jeans, she hopes he wasn't counting on anything slow and gentle tonight, because that's not even close to where this is about to go.

Sliding her own jeans down and tossing them quickly aside, she watches as he does the same, his eyes widening as her underwear lands on top of the pile. She nudges him backwards, her eyes focused on the very clear tenting of his shorts as his legs hit the couch.

“Shorts off, Billy,” she murmurs into his ear and slides her hands up to the buttons on his shirt, starting to undo each one as he pulls his shorts down.

She pauses and runs her hands across his chest, leaving his shirt half open, her impatience to touch his skin overtaking her unbuttoning skills for now. He slides a hand into her hair and pulls her to him, his kiss filled with hunger and his tongue pushing against hers. She feels him pressed hard against her, her abdomen tightening in her yearning for him. His mouth still firmly on hers, his hand moves down between her legs and she squirms against him as he runs a finger through her wetness, her arousal spiking even higher at his touch.

“Do you have any idea...” She pulls her lips from his, fixes her gaze on him, and reaches down between them to stroke his hard length. “How much I love you for today?”

“I figured you loved me anyway,” he says, his voice dropping lower as she continues to touch him. “But I'm getting some idea about today, yeah.”

“It's just...it mattered, you know, today,” she says, pausing as his hand, still between her legs, starts to move again, throwing her voice totally out of commission for a few seconds. “And you tried so hard, and my parents loved you, which I knew they would, of course, but it seemed like it meant a lot to you too, and-”

“It did.” He stops her, a faint smile on his face. “Let's be real here, honey, I don't think there's a whole lot I could have done if they'd hated me on sight, but it was important to me to try to make sure that didn't happen.”

“Well, it definitely didn't happen. You utterly charmed my mother, won my father around with some kind of sports and politics voodoo combination, and it was just...” She smiles at him. “It was really fucking sexy.”

“Ah, so this is about more than just us not having seen each other in a few nights?” He grins as she nods and reaches for her buttons, apparently realising she's still wearing her shirt while he was divested of his clothes several minutes ago.

He manages a few buttons before she pushes his hands away and pulls the shirt over her head, throwing it in the vague direction of the rest of their clothes, following quickly with her bra. Grabbing his hand, she pulls him through the living room and down the hall, stopping in the doorway of the bedroom and pushing him against the wall, kissing him again.

“You know, last week we only spent one night apart,” she says, knowing it was Sunday and that she really only dragged herself home to do laundry. “We're smart people, right?”

“I'm smart, sure,” he says. “You're a genius.”

“Right.” She grins and rubs herself up against him, her hand on his stomach, moving higher, her fingers combing through the hair on his chest. “So, doesn't it seem crazy to you that we're hurling rent at two apartments when one or the other sits empty most of the time?”

“Oh, it's nuts, honey.” He covers her hand with his, his smile soft and his eyes dark as he looks at her. “Makes no sense at all. If we had a place together we could be doing this every night without you thinking about your damn laundry, or me wondering what the fuck is festering in my fridge while I'm not there.”

“Nothing because there's never anything in your fridge, but yeah...” Leaning up, she kisses him again, smiling as she pulls away. “Right now we're going to have sex, but consider the subject of our living arrangements firmly on the table for discussion at some point soon, okay?”

“Totally okay. On both counts.” He smirks and starts to move her towards the bed.

“God, I'm glad you're staying tonight.” She sighs and turns around, giving him a sweeping glance from top to toe, the sight of just how hard he is turning her insides to jelly all over again. “Get on the bed, Billy.”

She almost laughs at the speed at which he scrambles to the top of the bed and sits back against the headboard, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he takes his turn to appraise her as she walks towards him. His eyes stay firmly fixed on her as she climbs onto the bed beside him and he moves closer, his hand cupping her breast, his thumb stroking softly across her hard nipple.

Rolling onto her back, she pulls him with her, dragging him urgently and slightly awkwardly on top of her, pushing her hips against him, making it clear what she wants. His lips roam across her cheek, down to her neck, and she shudders when his teeth scrape her collarbone. She feels him pressing against her thigh, hard and ready, and when he murmurs her name she moans and reaches for him, her hand gripping his ass as he moves to push into her.

“You know, this might be...” He pauses, apparently unable to finish his thought as he slides inside her, his breath hot against her neck as he starts to move. “Over quicker than I'd like...I-”

“I don't care.” She moves her hands up to his shoulder blades, pulling him down lower, needing to feel the weight of him, his solid chest pinning her down, his body covering hers completely.

He usually protests, convinced he's too heavy, insisting she can't be comfortable, his over- protectiveness sweet but totally misplaced, but this time he seems to sense it's what she wants and he raises no arguments. She knows he's right, this is going to be a sprint, not a marathon, and she's fine with that. She has no interest in finesse tonight, she just wants him. Lifting one leg, she hooks it around him and the combination of his chest sliding against her nipples with every stroke and his slow, deep movements takes her right to the edge.

“Just like that, oh God...” The words tumble out and she's somewhat surprised they even make sense, because she can't think clearly, she just needs him to keep doing what he's doing.

He always knows what she wants, he's been able to read her since the first time they spent the night together, like someone issued him with a manual to her body beforehand. Pulling back, he pushes inside her again, so slowly she feels every inch of him, and the moan she lets out is loud enough that she follows it with a silent apology to her neighbours. Her fingers grip his shoulders and he slips a hand down between them, his nimble fingers knowing exactly what she needs. His thumb strokes so softly she can barely feel his touch, but it's enough. His lips once again find just the right spot on her neck, the light scraping of his teeth finishing the job as she comes with a hard shudder, her nipples tightening against his chest, her legs shaking, and his name falling from her lips in a long, satisfied sigh.

His mouth finds hers, messily, urgently, his tongue running across her top lip, his ragged breathing mingling with her own, his eyes unfocused as he lifts his head. She wraps both legs around him, her feet crossed, and her heels pressing into his lower back, urging him on. She thinks she loves this the most, the moment right before he comes, when he's completely lost in her, his eyes so dark they barely look like his, his fingers curled into her hair, and his breath warm and heavy on her skin. She murmurs his name again and runs her tongue up his neck as he moves over her, a groan escaping him in response. When she runs her nails lightly down his back, she knows he's there, his fingers tangling more tightly in her hair, his movements changing, his rhythm lost to an uncontrollable primal urge as he finishes, emptying everything he has into her with a long, low, groan.

He rolls off and she goes part of the way with him, landing with her leg pressed against his and her arm stretched across his chest, not wanting to let go of him. His silence would suggest he's asleep, but she knows the sound of his breathing well enough to know otherwise. He shifts slightly and she feels his arm move around her, pulling her closer, his hand caressing her shoulder, his fingers soft and gentle, and she lifts her head to look up at him. She half expected he might be ready to roll over and sleep, but he's wide awake with a soft, sweet smile on his face.

“I'm going to the bathroom,” she says, turning her head to kiss his chest before she drags herself reluctantly from the bed. “Don't fall asleep, I want to snuggle.”

She's wiping her make-up off when he appears in the doorway, startling her a little, leaning against the wall watching her. Glancing at him in the mirror, it's hits her again just how damn handsome he is, standing there without a stitch of clothing, his hair slightly messy, his pale blue eyes focused only on her. Reaching for her toothbrush, she picks up his and hands it to him, a warm feeling running through her as she thinks about this being the norm every night when they live together, as silly a little thing as it is.

“Mac?” He's looking at her with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, and she realises she must have zoned out for a few seconds. “You okay?”

“Sorry, yeah.” She nods and takes the toothpaste from him, smiling up at him and squeezing his arm. “I am. I'm fine.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It's Friday and the chance to sleep in feels so decadent that she's a little annoyed when she looks at the clock and realises she's awake at her usual time._

It's Friday and the chance to sleep in feels so decadent that she's a little annoyed when she looks at the clock and realises she's awake at her usual time. Will is still asleep, of course, she's almost always awake before him, but at least this morning she can curl up with him for as long as they want to. She seems to have all of the bedding while he has none, but he doesn't appear to be feeling the loss as he lies completely uncovered, giving her an easy excuse to appreciate his naked body in the half-light. He's facing her, his mouth slightly open, his breathing soft and even. She wonders whether, if she stares at him long enough, he'll sense it somehow and wake up, but she decides it's worth the risk. Moving closer, she reaches out to drape her arm across his chest, pressing herself against him and stroking her foot down his calf.

She only realises she fell asleep when she feels him move behind her, meaning she must have rolled over at some point. When she feels a soft kiss on the back of her neck, she knows he's awake too, his lips warm on her skin as he slides his arm around her, his hand coming to rest on her stomach.

“Now aren't you glad you took today off?” she murmurs, knowing he was reluctant only because he didn't want to make assumptions, but knowing too that her father wouldn't have invited him to join them today if he didn't mean it.

“Can't deny it,” he says, his words tickling her neck and making her squirm slightly. “It was a good call.”

She covers his hand with her own and tangles her fingers with his, so completely relaxed she doesn't think she could feel more content if she tried. Again she thinks about how her mother made it quite clear she liked him, how sweet he was from the minute he arrived at her door, and how whatever he did at the baseball game was enough to win her father over too.

“So, I'm guessing I should probably prepare for a trip to Nebraska at some point?” she asks quietly. “I mean, you're going to have to deal with all of my siblings sooner or later, so it's only fair I should be put through the same thing.”

“I don't know, I hadn't...” He pauses and she feels his sigh heavy against her skin. “We're not close, I don't get out there much, you know, I-”

“It's fine, it was just a thought.” She stops him, feeling a faint sting at the idea of him not wanting her to meet his family. “It doesn't matter if you don't want me to meet them yet, I didn't mean-” 

“It's not you,” he says firmly. “Mackenzie, it's _not_ you.”

“Did something happen or were you never really close?” she asks, realising they've never really talked about his family and that whenever she has tried to he has always changed the subject.

“I haven't seen my brother for...a couple of years now, I guess. My sisters and I email occasionally, and that's it.” He stops abruptly and she squeezes his hand, sensing his reticence to expand on it.

“And your dad?” She pushes on, gently, she hopes.

“I wish you could have met my mom.” He avoids the question, changing tack if not changing subject entirely. “I know she would have loved you right from the start.”

“I wish I could have met her too,” she says, feeling a genuine sadness at never knowing the woman who brought this sweet man into the world. “You and your dad...you're not close?”

“My dad is...I was going to say it's complicated, but it's actually not complicated at all,” he says, taking a breath and running his thumb across her hand. “My dad is an old school misogynist, with the added bonus of being an alcoholic who has a tendency to use his fists instead of his brain.”

“Oh, Billy, he...he used to...” She swallows past a sudden lump in her throat as his reluctance to discuss his family suddenly makes sense. “He used to hit you?”

“Me, my mom, my siblings, yeah. He was a mean, controlling drunk with a fucking vicious temper, and I guess we were easy targets.” He sighs and she hears his anger bubbling just under the surface.

“Jesus...” She turns in his arms, needing to look at him, and she's not surprised to see that his expression is completely unreadable or that he can't quite meet her eyes. “How did...I mean, how long did it go on?”

“Until I got big enough to stand up to him,” he says. “I guess I was ten, maybe eleven. He came at me and I got to him first. He didn't touch any of us again after that.”

She shuffles higher up the bed so she can wrap her arms around him, pressing her lips against his neck, feeling tears well up in her eyes at the thought of him, at ten years old, having to stand up to a father who was a bully and an abuser. His arms move around her and they lie in silence for what feels like forever. When she lifts her head to look at him, she sees his eyes are dry, unlike her own, and she feels a fresh wave of sadness at the thought of what he went through.

“So, no, he doesn't fucking deserve to meet you.” His voice is calm, level, but determined. “I don't want him anywhere near you.”

“Do you...have you talked to anyone about it?” she asks, wondering how someone even begins to process a childhood like that. “A therapist, I mean?”

“Yeah, a little. Years ago.” He gives a faint shrug and she decides not to push the point, waiting to see if he continues. “It helped some, I guess.”

“Well...some is better than nothing.” She slides her hands from around his neck and rests them on his face, stroking her thumbs softly across his cheeks. “I'm so sorry, I had...God, I had no idea, I mean, I guessed you weren't particularly close, but I never thought...fuck, I'm so sorry.”

“It's fine,” he says, shaking his head when she frowns at his response. “You know what I mean. It was a long time ago, I don't really have contact with him now, haven't in a while. It's done.”

“I love you.” She leans forward to kiss him, filled with admiration for his strength, his bravery, and somehow loving him even more knowing he emerged from such a terrible situation to become the good, kind man he is today. “I really love you.”

“I'm okay, Mac.” There's a hint of a soft smile pulling at his lips as he looks at her.

“Alright.” She knows he means it, but she still wishes he hadn't had to go through what he did at all.

“How does coffee and some breakfast sound?” he asks as he pushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“It sounds great, but you _could_ just say 'Mackenzie, I don't want to talk about this anymore', you know.” She smiles and reaches for his hand, squeezing his fingers.

“I know,” he says, shrugging and smiling back at her. “But I really could use a coffee.”

*

“So...” She takes a grateful sip of her coffee and smiles at him over the top of the mug. “I was thinking...what we talked about last night...”

“The fact that we casually throw money at two apartments every month and one or the other sits empty half the time?” His hand moves to her thigh, squeezing gently.

“Yeah, that.” She smiles at him. “I thought-”

She stops abruptly because her buzzer rings, startling her to the point where she almost drops her mug. Glancing at the time, she frowns at him, shrugging as he raises his eyebrows, having no more of a clue who's on her doorstep at nine in the morning than he does.

“Hello?” She picks up the receiver, fully expecting to hear someone apologising for hitting the wrong buzzer.

“Hello, darling, it's me!” Her mother's voice is loud and cheerful in her ear. “Your mother.” “Yes, Mum, I got that.” Her eye roll is involuntary and unseen, of course, by her mother.

“Well, are you going to leave me standing in the street all morning?” Her mother sounds impatient even though she's been standing outside for barely a few seconds.

“Of course not,” she says, shaking her head as she turns to Will. “Come up.”

“I guess she changed her mind about sleeping in and drinking coffee while your dad was out?” He smiles at her, and she's glad he doesn't seem too disappointed that her mother has decided to crash their morning.

“Guess so.” There's a tap on the door so she walks over and opens it, finding her mother on the other side, grinning at her.

“Morning, Mackie.” She steps inside and spots Will instantly, her grin growing even wider. “Ah Will, I was rather hoping you'd be here too. I thought we could follow my husband's example and go out for breakfast.”

“I thought you were planning a morning of sleep and coffee?” she asks, realising suddenly just how underdressed she and Will both are, and amazed her mother is yet to comment.

“I was, but you know your father, he doesn't appear to have the ability to get ready and leave a room with any semblance of quiet.” Her mother shrugs. “So I thought fine, if he's having a fancy brunch somewhere then I jolly well will too, and who better to join me than you two lovelies.”

“Sounds good to me, Mum.” She smiles and sees Will stand up, looking slightly sheepish to be standing in front of her mother in just his shorts and a t-shirt. “Will?”

“Yeah, sounds great. I'll go, um, put some clothes on,” Will says, almost running from the room, mercifully oblivious to her mother's gaze following him.

“I'll put some fresh coffee on for you, Mum, and then I'll go and get ready too.” She moves into the kitchen and her mother follows, leaning against the counter.

“I hope I didn't spoil your morning plans?” her mother asks, smiling at her.

“Not at all, we slept in and we hadn't really made any plans.” She adds a scoop of coffee to the machine and hits start. “We _were_ just pondering breakfast though, so you timed it pretty well in that respect.”

“And how convenient that Will just happened to be here already.” Her mother's tone reflects the expression on her face. “Although I'm sure he's here quite often.”

“He's here, I'm at his place...” She pauses and takes a mug from the cupboard, setting it on the counter. “You know how it is.”

“You haven't thought about just moving in together?” her mother asks, as direct as ever.

“Oh, we haven't...I mean, we _have_ , I suppose, in a way,” she says, recalling her conversation with Will the night before. “We will. It'll happen.”

“Good, glad to hear it. I'm just delighted to see you so happy, darling.” Her mother smiles at her. “And you know, your father really did enjoy himself yesterday, I hope Will did too?”

“He did.” She smiles, reminded again of how pleased Will was that it went so well. “I think he was a little more nervous than I realised, he was pretty relieved last night that it had all gone well.”

“Well, he has nothing to worry about, Mackie. Your father liked him very much.” Her mother squeezes her arm. “Now, unless you're planning to go out in nothing more than those tiny knickers you're currently wearing, I think you should go and get dressed so I can do more than just dream about breakfast.”

“Drink coffee, Mum,” she says, taking the milk from the fridge and handing it to her mother. “I won't be long.”

When she walks into the bedroom Will is dressed and is standing in front of the mirror, running a comb through his hair. He smiles when he sees her, sliding the comb into his pocket when he finishes before turning to face her.

“Your mom okay?” he asks, sitting down on the bed and watching as she pulls a shirt and jeans from the closet.

“She has coffee, she can amuse herself for the few minutes it takes for me to get ready,” she says, smiling at him. “Or until you work up the courage to go back out there without me.”

“Alright, I can take a hint.” He stands up and runs a hand across her shoulder, squeezing lightly.

“It was more of a suggestion, really...” She smirks, knowing he's fine with it really. “I'll be quick, I promise.”

She's in the bathroom and just about to wash her face when he pops his head around the door and she raises her eyebrows, wondering if he's changed his mind already about spending ten minutes alone with her mother.

“In case we don't get time to talk about this again today, can I just...” He pauses and smiles at her. “You'll move in with me, right?”

“I will, yeah.” She smiles back at him and walks over to the door, leaning up to kiss him, smiling again when she pulls back. “Well, that was easy.”

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “It was.”

“So now that's decided...” She runs a finger slowly down his nose, grinning up at him. “Go and entertain my mother.”

“Five minutes, right?” He looks hopeful but she knows five minutes is a little optimistic. “Ten.” She bites her lip and pulls her hair into a ponytail.

“Seven?” He steps back into the doorway but keeps his eyes on her.

“Billy...” She wonders if he realises that the longer he stands here bartering with her, the longer it's actually going to take her to get ready.

“Fine, I'm going,” he says, stepping out of the bathroom but reappearing almost instantly. “You do know the next ten minutes is earning me all the bacon, right?”

“I promise I won't even attempt to push yoghurt and a fruit plate on you,” she says with a smile. “Well, then...” He grins again, wide and genuine. “Take as long as you need, honey.”


End file.
